


Sound the Alarm

by westgate



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, This is just an excuse to write E in a flimsy towel tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 05:54:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8785690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westgate/pseuds/westgate
Summary: “Well you’ve really got that ‘just descended from Mt. Olympus’ look down. You know, with the towel and all, in case that wasn’t clear.” He raised an eyebrow. “I bet you say that to all the random half naked strangers you meet on the street.”~~~AKA, the fire alarm goes off and Enjolras is stuck outside in only a towel when he meets his handsome new neighbor.





	

Enjolras cursed at the sound of the blaring fire alarm, which echoed loudly through his tiny bathroom. The sudden blast of noise had startled him, causing him to drop the shampoo bottle in his hand directly onto his foot. Of course. These things only happened at the most inconvenient of times.

Annoyed, he weighed the pros and cons of staying inside rather than evacuating promptly like the fire safety demonstrations had explained time and time again. One of the incredible joys (nightmares) of living in his building was that when one alarm went off they all chorused in a loud shrill screeching that made Enjolras want to tear his ears off. Combeferre would tell him he was being overdramatic, but Combeferre wasn’t here. At least the other tenants were pleasant to put up with.

The odds of it being an actual fire were very small. He didn’t gamble, but he would put money on the culprit being his downstairs neighbor Marius; it hadn’t been the first time. They didn’t converse much. Enjolras was a private person, and Marius was nice but had the “lost dear in the headlights” look. From their few conversations, he had learned that Marius had recently severed ties with his family in search of independence. That being said, Marius was unaccustomed to actually living on his own and was kind of a walking disaster. But he was trying, and Enjolras respected his attempt. He himself had come from a similar situation.

He debated with himself over whether to go through the effort of leaving the shower and walking down the four flights of stairs. There was a chance that he would make it down the first flight of stairs only to turn around and return because the alarm had stopped. But Marius was the apartment below him, so if the fire was real Enjolras would be the first to burn. He let out a loud groan as he reluctantly grabbed a towel, secured it around his waist, and stalked outside into the hot summer air.

There was a large gathering of residents outside on the street, no doubt equally annoyed by the fire as he had been. Miss Hendricks from down the hall had half of her hair in curlers and looked especially put out. At least he wasn’t the only one.

He had smelled smoke in the hallway on his way out, so the fire was definitely real. Which meant there was a chance he would be outside for a while. It was only then when he fully realized his predicament: his wardrobe choice (or lack thereof). At least it was decent weather. With a sigh and a grumble he moved away from the building to lean up against the nearby lamp post and decidedly pout.

Over the crowd of residents Enjolras had failed to see the dark haired man already occupying the spot to the side of the lamp post, sat next to it as he fiddled with his phone idly. He studied the stranger as he approached, noting the paint stained fingers that tapped away at the screen in his hands. There was a hint of stubble on his jaw suggesting that he hadn’t had the time to shave in a few days, or perhaps he always sported the reckless artist look. Either way, the stubble suited him, and Enjolras briefly wondered what it would be like to feel it rub against his skin.

Remembering he was in a thin red towel, he pushed the thought to the back of his mind and took his spot against the post. A few minutes passed as he scanned the crowd, looking to see if he could identify the perpetrator. There were now two fire engines outside the building, and he watched as the firemen entered and trudged up the stairs to assess the damage.

“So do you sport that look often, or just for special occasions?”

He looked down to see the brunette grinning at him smugly, phone now tucked away into the pocket of his ripped jeans. He could now see that his eyes were a deep shade of green and that there was a smudge of blue paint on his left cheekbone. Enjolras resisted the temptation to reach over and wipe it off with his thumb.

He knit his eyebrows together slightly. “Just for today, I’m afraid. I was hoping it would be a false alarm. 2B has set the alarm off more than once with her incense. No such luck today it seems,” he said, frowning.

The brunette stood so they were now at eye level, running his hands through his dark messy curls. Enjolras could see that his nose had been broken before, perhaps more than once. It wasn’t something he usually found attractive, but somehow it worked on him, adding to his reckless air.

“Well you’ve really got that ‘just descended from Mt. Olympus’ look down. You know, with the towel and all, in case that wasn’t clear.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I bet you say that to all the random half naked strangers you meet on the street.”

Hot art guy laughed, a warm sound that made Enjolras reluctantly quirk his lips into a smile. He wasn’t the type to flirt with strangers on the street, especially dressed in a towel of all things, but he could make exceptions.

“Nah, only to the attractive blondes that live in my building. I’m Grantaire by the way, 3C.”

He stuck out his hand, an invitation to shake it. Enjolras leaned forward to meet the gesture, one hand firmly gripping the towel around his waist. His hands were large and calloused, fingernails bitten down to little stubs probably out of nervous habit. Their handshake left a small but noticeable smudge of blue on his own hand. Enjolras absentmindedly rubbed his thumb over the mark.

“Enjolras, 5A. Nice to meet you Grantaire.” It wasn’t the ideal way to spend his afternoon -half naked, locked out of his building, standing on the side of the street -but at least, it seemed, Enjolras was in good company. He had never been very social with the other people who lived his building, but for attractive brunettes he could make an exception.

“So Enjolras, have you lived here for a while? I only moved in last month, so I’m pretty new to the area. Anything fun to do around here?”

“I’ve been here for two years -I’m finishing up Graduate School, and this isn’t too far from campus.” Feeling bold, he added, “I would offer to show you around the area to kill time so we don’t have to wait for the fire department to come but, y’know,” he said, gesturing down to his attire. “I’m a little underdressed.”

Grantaire threw back his head and laughed a genuine, bright laugh that made Enjolras feel warm inside. “I may not know the area, but I can bet you anything most places have a No Pants No Service rule. A shame, really.”

“Raincheck? For when I uh….have pants?” He was usually good with his words, but Grantaire had made him falter. “There’s a really great coffeeshop around the corner that I spent a lot of my time at.” _Although showing you a good time doesn’t have to involve pants_ , he thought to himself. And then he was once again reminded of how thin his towel was. _Christ Enjolras, hold yourself together_. He’d barely been talking to Grantaire for 5 minutes, and was already ready to jump his bones.

“Coffee and a cute blonde tour guide? Well, you do make a compelling offer.” He grabbed his phone from his pocket, and offered it to Enjolras, who typed in his phone number.

“I seem to have left my phone in my other towel,” he joked lamely, “so you’ll have to text me later so that I have your number too.”

“Oh, you can count on that.” Grantaire smiled, as he reached into his jean pocket and pulled out a lighter and a carton of cigarettes.

“I know it’s a terrible habit, and I’m working on it,” he said, putting his hands up in mock-defense. He took out a cigarette and placed one between his lips. For a moment, Enjolras was transfixed as he stared at his mouth. Grantaire light the cigarette, took a long drag, and exhaled smoothly.

“I’d offer you one, but that was actually my last and now I feel like an asshole. Unless… you want to share?”

Enjolras was a casual smoker, usually only indulging after a drink or two or when offered. And this was not an offer he was going to turn down. Feeling bold for the second time that day, he reached for the cigarette between Grantaire’s lips and plucked it out, placing it to his own mouth and taking a long drag. His thumb had grazed Grantaire’s plump bottom lip in the process, and he briefly imagined what would happen if he made a move and pressed their lips together. If he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t sure that he had ever been so attracted to someone so quickly. He needed to find his fucking chill.

They passed the cigarette between them, leaning against the post as they made small talk. Enjolras knew he must have looked ridiculous: cigarette in hand, literally only a towel covering himself, and his curly hair sticking out in all sorts of directions as his hair dried. He usually prided himself in being well put together and on top of things, and at the moment he was anything but -and he was surprised that he was actually enjoying himself so much.

They made easy small talk as they got to know each other better. Enjolras learned that Grantaire knew almost no one in the city, but had moved here to follow a job. He was currently working at the scenic artist on a small budget indie film, and (with a wink) he admitted to modeling part time for the nude life drawing classes at a nearby art school. (Enjolras tried his very best not to dwell on that image too much, lest his body _fucking betray him_ ).

Grantaire laughed bitterly and made a quick comment about how his parents would probably have a stroke if they knew what he was doing with his life; they didn’t seem to be on speaking terms (and Enjolras could relate). He did have a younger sister in Seattle, and Grantaire's entire face light up as he talked about her. Enjolras got the impression that they were very close.

It was Grantaire’s turn to ask the questions. “So grad school, huh? That’s very impressive. Tell me, do they permit towels in the dress code there?” Grantaire asked playfully as he exhaled smoke.

Enjolras cracked a smile. “Maybe if it was a liberal arts school, but I think my International Studies professor would highly frown upon it.”

“You should start a petition. In all seriousness though, I’m really interested to know what you’re looking to do with that fancy degree.”

“The five year plan is officially to graduate, and then work my way up in local government.”

Grantaire raised an eyebrow and looked at him skeptically.

Enjolras raised his eyebrow in turn. “I’m guessing by your reaction that you’re not a fan?”

He exhaled a shaky laugh. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. It’s just that… politicians are so… sleazy? And I know I’ve known you for like, half an hour, but I like to think I’m a pretty good judge of character and you’re just completely the opposite of what I normally associate politicians with.”

Enjolras knit his eyebrows together, as he tried to figure out if that was a compliment or not.

“Thank you?”

“God, sorry, that came out kind of bad. I meant that in the best way possible. You are well spoken, and smart and educated, and a million times better than the garbage that currently runs things.”

Grantaire continued. “I have to ask though: Do you really thinking getting into politics will make a difference? Because as far as I can tell, they (the people in charge) are more interested in the size of their paychecks than they are their constituents. And despite them being a voice for the people, they’re more apt to act in their own interest.” He inhaled deeply and blew out a ring of smoke, the show off. “So what I’m asking is: What’s the point?”

Enjolras was surprised that he actually found his cynicism refreshing, and rose to the challenge to (politely) counter back.

“No, I get it. I don’t think you’re wrong about our current elected officials -the sad truth of it is that money and corruption plays a big game in government. But where I do think you’re wrong is that our voices can’t be heard.”

Now he was on a role, and he passionately continued. “I think that it takes a movement and opposition for our voices to be heard. And it also takes the right people in office to make real change and to start acting for the people. I don’t agree with the current political scene even remotely, but as someone behind the scenes I hope to influence real change.”

Grantaire stared at him for a moment, as to take in what he said, and then flashed him another bright smile. “Well well, it’s pretty hard to change my mind Enjolras, but I look forward to you challenging that.”

They continued to talk politics, Enjolras with his idealism and Grantaire ever the cynic. It wasn’t often Enjolras found someone who could keep up with him, and even if they had conflicting ideas Enjolras was genuinely interested in hearing them.

When another fire truck arrived at the scene, a full 40 minutes after they had been banished outside, Enjolras audibly groaned. “Could they be any slower? What the fuck even happened that this it taking so long?”

Grantaire crushed the remainder of their shared cigarette on the concrete, extinguishing it, and laughed at his impatience. “Man, whoever did this must feel like a real asshole.”

Enjolras nodded his head in agreement. “Well yeah, I hope they realize that they’ve inconvenienced a ton of people. I wonder who it even was.”

“Well, you’re pretty much the only one I know in this building. Who do you think the culprit was, super-sleuth?”

Enjolras scanned the crowd gathered around the building to see if anyone looked guilty. “Well, the most obvious choice would be my downstairs neighbor in 4A.” He discretely pointed to Marius, who was spotting a bad case of bedhead and had chosen to wear duck slippers on his feet.

“He’s set if off countless times, but it has never taken this long for order to be restored so I have the feeling it wasn’t him.”

Grantaire looked over at him and smiled. “Oh yes, I met him on my first day here. He had his nose buried in a book and literally ran into me and made me drop my coffee. He apologized like 15 times, but he was very sincere about it and seems kind of sweet and harmless.”

That did sound like Marius. “Yeah, if it had been him he would no doubt be talking to the firefighters and apologizing for them having to come down here… again. I think they might be on a first name basis?”

“Well if not him, then who else?” Grantaire asked, amused.

Enjolras continued to rattle off a list of names of possible suspects. There was the sweet elderly lady in 2D that smoked weed for her glaucoma, a few years ago 1A set her rug on fire when she knocked a candle over (that had been a nightmare), and then 4B, a middle aged balding man with a lot of tattoos who liked to experiment with baking.

“It could be any one of them,” Enjolras finally decided. “It just strikes me as kind of rude that no one has come to apologize for it yet. We’ve been out here for at least 45 minutes, and people have things to do. And they clearly just? Don’t care?”

Beside him, Grantaire ran his hair through his hair nervously. “Well, you’ve got a point there. Maybe they didn’t think of it like that.”

Enjolras huffed. “It’s just very self centered. I understand if it was an accident, and if it couldn’t be avoided, but also maybe they should think of how this is affecting other people, rather than just their self.”

As Enjolras finished his sentence, he saw a group of firefighters exit the building, and begin to head towards the crowd.

“What perfect timing. Well, I guess we’re going to find out now. It looks like they’ve finally wrapped things up.” He was still a little grumpy about the whole situation to begin with, and Enjolras planned to have a few words with whoever clearly didn’t care that they had messed up his morning routine. Enjolras sat there in anticipation, waiting to see who the culprit would be. He grew confused, however, when a firefighter stopped in front of them and turned to address Grantaire.

"Sir, we assessed the damages and made sure your apartment is safe to enter. You should be all good to go.”

Grantaire glanced over at Enjolras, who was staring at him with an alarmed expression on his face, and then back to the fireman. “Thank you for your time sir. I’ll have to be more careful next time.”

“Please do. If we hadn’t caught it in time, that could have done some seriously nasty work to your apartment. You’re lucky it only ruined the curtains.”

Enjolras watched the firefighter walk away, and then turned to Grantaire and raised an eyebrow. “It was YOU?”

Grantaire raised his hands in mock defense. “Guilty as charged.”

He crossed his arms, and looked at him accusingly. “Why didn’t you maybe lead with that?”

Grantaire took a deep breath and sighed. “I was busy painting this morning, and I absentmindedly put out a cigarette in what I thought was a regular, mostly-empty cup of coffee sitting on the windowsill. But it turns out that it was leftover coffee and whiskey, and when I threw the cigarette in there the cup lit up and kind of... set my curtains on fire.”

Enjolras was cross, but he also couldn’t help but laugh at the scene, and a smile tugged at his lips.

“And I am sorry. Not about the curtains, those were god awful, but for inconveniencing you and everyone else in the building and for not owning up to it. I wasn’t really thinking. I’m just new here, and I didn’t want everyone’s first impression of me to be ‘that idiot who accidentally lit his curtains on fire.” Grantaire shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced down at the floor, looking defeated. It was clear as day that he thought he’d ruined things with Enjolras. Enjolras never, ever, wanted be responsible for Grantaire looking that way again.

“Well, that’s much too long of a nickname anyway,” he fired back playfully. Enjolras was pleased to see Grantaire look up and smile back at him.

“It seems some apologies are in order on my end too.” He shifted, and played with the edge of his towel as found the right words to say. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like crap when I implied that you were being rude. You’re new to the city, and you didn’t want to be hated by your entire building. It’s completely understandable.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it. So no hard feelings then?”

“Of course not. And I mean, it’s not all bad. I did get the chance to meet my cute new neighbor after all.”

The grin Grantaire flashed him made his entire face light up. It was a good look. THAT was a look that Enjolras hoped to see more of.

The crowd outside their began to thin until it was just the two of them and Marius left, who sat on the stoop face-timing someone. As they walked past him Enjolras glanced at his phone and noticed he was talking to a pretty blonde woman he’d seen in the hallway several times. Maybe she was the reason Marius had been so scatterbrained lately.

They walked up the stairs and continued their flirty banter with ease. As they reached Grantaire’s floor, they finalized their plans to have coffee the following day at the place Enjolras had mentioned. “It’s a date,” Enjolras agreed.

“Well, this is me.” Grantaire gestured to his place and fiddled with his keys as he opened up the door. Enjolras caught a glimpse the chaos inside; the firefighters had been forced to move his furniture around, and it all sat in a crowded pile in the middle of his room.

Grantaire stood in his doorway, and turned to address him on the stairs. “I’d invite you in and give you the tour, but I think I’ve got quite a bit of cleaning up to do.”

It all happened so fast. Before Enjolras could snap back with a witty response, Marius Pontmercy, the walking disaster himself, whizzed past him on the staircase. His face was still buried in his phone, no doubt still talking with that girl, and it was likely that he hadn’t even seen Enjolras there. The problem was that his presence had startled Enjolras, who gripped the railing to steady himself as Marius flew by.

In the process of doing this however, his towel had taken the liberty of detaching itself from his waist, and now sat in pooled around his ankles. Enjolras stood there on the steps, stark naked as he faced a very caught-off-guard Grantaire. His mouth hung open as he quickly raked his eyes over Enjolras’ body as if it were involuntary, and then looked away as if to give him some privacy.

His eyes widened in alarm as he dove for the towel at his feet, and quickly restored its place around his waist. Grantaire met his face with a playful gaze.

“Well, on that note….” he said, as he waved a quick goodbye to Grantaire with one hand, the other firmly fisting his towel so that there wasn’t a repeat performance. As he ran up the remaining stairs to his apartment, he heard Grantaire shout, “It was nice to meet you!”

He hadn’t bothered to lock the door to his apartment, and when he entered and immediately threw himself face down on the couch to lie there in embarrassment and collect his thoughts. _That_ had certainly just happened.

After replaying the scenario in his head for the fourth agonizing time, he walked over to his room to grab sweatpants and swap them out for the towel. When he made his way back to the living room he sat down on the couch and reached over to grab his buzzing phone from the end table. It lit up in his hands, his lockscreen reading “1 new message.” He swiped the screen to view it.

 **Unknown:** _Well, you do know how to make quite the exit._

Today certainly hadn’t gone as he planned. Enjolras woke up anticipating a busy morning of studying and some light reading. Instead, he’d made a fool out of himself at least twice, met an exciting new someone he hadn’t expected, and he was pretty sure he was going to actually murder Marius. Or at least have several strong words with him. And yet, despite the chaos of today, he had had a really great afternoon. He bit his lip, and in his final bold move of the day, texted out a speedy response to his handsome downstairs neighbor.

 **Enjolras, 5A:** _Next time we see each other, maybe that won’t have to require pants either._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the support! [Come say hi on Tumblr](http://www.westgates.tumblr.com) and follow for updates


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